Little Bunny Foo-Foo, No Longer Hopping Through the Forest.

Remember last Monday not-so-funday? Turns out, that was way more fun than what Sunday would have in store. Apparently, life has been too good to me lately, so the universe had to throw me a low curve. Luckily, I hit homeruns. (I don't really know what that means, but the Mets got a sweep this weekend and I'd kind of forgotten what that felt like, so I have baseball on the brain.) But, back to the point of this post, Sunday Super-Not-So-Funday (this may also be known as "Black Sunday" in the rabbit community.)

Here's what I learned this weekend:
1. My dog is a murderer.
2. My dog likes raw meat.
3. My dog has a sensitive stomach.

If you're good at math, you'll notice that those facts add up to DISASTER. And they sure did.

A poor rabbit found its way into our fenced in yard. I discovered Berta chasing it like it was her job (well, technically, it is: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beagle), so I escorted her in by the collar and listened to her whine and squeal at the door (at 7 a.m., fun times!) while hoping that the rabbit would find its way out from the way it came in. Spoiler alert: it didn't. Berta got an extra special breakfast of bunny...and it didn't end well. For either of us. Let's just say rabbits are much cuter alive and furry than they are half digested all over the floor of your home. You read that right, Berta waited until she got inside to discover her tummy wasn't amused by the rich cuisine. Lucky me. She spent the rest of the day outside...just in case.

My day also involved cat feces, broken glass and blood, but you already feel sorry for me so I won't go into further detail. Sunday Super-Not-So-Funday was probably an understatement, huh?